A Series of Firsts
by C-AND-B
Summary: It's a series of firsts that drive you crazy. The first time you see her. The first time she sings. The first time you take that leap of faith and the first time she catches you. The first time she breaks you down to nothing more than Beca Mitchell and the first time you stop caring about it (slight spoilers).


_A/N - So I apparently started writing this ages ago and forgot but PP2 had me searching through unfinished works and there it sat. Just a heads up, for the purpose of this fic the events of the second movie occur the year following the first. That's pretty much it except enjoy and sorry for any mistakes._

* * *

 **A Series of Firsts**

 **1.**

" _When you meet someone for the first time, that's not the whole book. That's just the first page." - Brody Armstrong_

When you first see her you don't think much of it. Yeah, she's pretty. You'd probably go as far to say she's gorgeous, but that much is evident. Her hair burns like fire licking at her chest, but it falls in waves, and you wonder how you can seem to find so many contrasting complexities in such a simple thing.

Her eyes only add to your bewilderment. You could spend hours trying to describe them. But you don't think you can quite capture the essence of them with simple words, with meager explanations. It's too cliché to say the redheads eyes are like the ocean. They are vast, and unfathomable, and mesmerizing. But oceans are dangerous - they're immense and terrifying. The further you walk from the shore, the further you lurk in the realms of fear because the ocean is unpredictable, and unforgiving. They aren't like the ocean you decide quickly. They're too soft.

You think of the sky next. A large open expanse, open to change, a sight for desires and hope. You see that when you look in her eyes, but that's not quite right. The sky clouds over with ease. It tempts and teases the darkness until it takes over. She doesn't seem capable of such an act. Her eyes beam with excitement and ambition and yet you get the nagging feeling she is hiding something deeper. Something she is trying to ignore.

Your next idea is that of ice. Not the blocks you'd find in your drink. The complex shapes that flutter from the sky. Each is different. Each is complex but individually perfect. Ice makes you tremble, and shake, but you're in awe of its beauty anyway. Even then you think you're not quite right because ice is cold. Ice is cold and when she smiles undeniable warmth spreads like gasoline through your veins. You ignore it anyway and go back to the drawing board.

You admit defeat soon after. Something about her is incomprehensible. You're willing to turn away. You're willing to walk back the way you came, and hide under your covers for another few months, or join the chess club just to fuck with that nerdy kid who almost passed out when you smirked. Heck, to go to LA you're willing to join the Deaf Jews.

It's her that makes you stop. You will your feet to keep moving but they refuse. They lock you down. Her smile is contagious, and you almost find yourself catching the bug. It's hard for a moment, then the uptight blonde beside her tears your snarky side to the surface, despite the fact that you don't want to hurt this girl. Whoever she is.

It's that exact fact that makes you tell them you can't sing.

Yes, you think its lame. Yes, the blonde is a bitch. No, you do not want to spend any more time with blondie than you possibly have to. But none of that is why you lie and turn away. That had everything to do with the downtrodden redhead who makes your heart stutter but you can't care. You won't care. Especially not for someone who doesn't deserve to be broken.

You forget all about the stunning redhead that night when you blast the bass in your ears, playing with beats until Kimmy Jin's glare finally becomes too much for you and you fall asleep.

* * *

 **2.**

" _A voice is very intimate. It's something of your own. So there's always this fear, because you feel naked." -_ _Andrea Bocelli_

The fire is reawakened when she storms into your shower and your mantra of 'don't look down' obviously isn't working because you've memorized every inch of skin, every crevice, every blemish with a kind of determination you've only ever expressed for music.

You can't quite comprehend how you're supposed to handle this situation because on one hand there's an ineffably pretty girl in your shower who is complimenting something you'd quietly kept hidden for years. But then on the other hand there is an ineffably pretty girl in your shower, the same shower in which you are also naked and don't even know the redheads name.

Then she gets close. Like incredibly close and the simple gesture goads your skin until its trembling at her proximity. You won't give in though. You won't allow your eyes the freedom they are begging for because then you know you'll crumble. You know you'll turn around and let yourself be enamored by her confusing gaze and her enrapturing smile. And then she's giving you an ultimatum and you know she's won this because it can go a few ways

1\. You refuse for a little while but she'll be there lingering in your space but not tangible enough in your reality for you to reach out like you'd really want to. But you'll continue to smell the strawberry body wash that wraps around her like a blanket and you'll eventually break far harder than if you'd just given in.

2\. You sing timidly as you shy away into the corner but then she nods encouragingly because something about her is inherently kind and warm and you're heart will stutter until the tremble in your voice is something completely different.

3\. You turn around and sing with everything you have. Except you haven't sung to anyone bar your mother since middle school and right now sharing your voice seems like something far more personal than she's imagining it.

You choose three because it somehow sounds the least painful except then she starts singing with you. She starts singing with you, matching you note for note and you know you've found the pure unadulterated beauty you'd been creating in your mash-ups with just your voices alone and it's as much awe inspiring as it is terrifying.

You're smiling though and then so is she and you're completely unaware of the draft that's blasting past the curtain or the shuffling of feet from other people in the stalls because all you can hear is the ringing in your ears and all you can see is her eyes and my God it's cheesy and you kind of hate yourself but you also couldn't give any less of a shit.

Your eyes give in eventually though because how could they not? You don't look for long, something about it seems wrong - like you don't want to see it all until you can map it out each constellation of freckles with your fingertips, until you can trace every last inch of alabaster skin so that the memory of it is burned so harshly onto your brain that it's all you can remember when everything else fades.

You apparently you look enough for her to catch your eye though because she's smirking and saying how she's confident about "all this" and you're telling her that she should be, and yes, it gets her to smile but you want to slap yourself in the face because what happened to private thoughts and public words?

You just stand there then and she's watching you with an intensity that you almost shrink beneath. The boy that comes into the shower looking for her is like a harsh slap of reality to your face because this isn't a thing you can be doing and yet as she calls back to you, you know that you'll show up to her stupid auditions. How could you not?

* * *

 **3.**

" _Take the first step in faith. You don't have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step." - Martin Luther King, Jr._

You show up to auditions because you're weak and you can't stop thinking about her and you're kinda hoping if you're in her presence for copious amounts of time you'll learn to get annoyed by her chipper demeanor and smiles and hate her. Fingers crossed. (You also maybe kinda show up because you have an undeniable amount of faith in this girl for some reason and if you have to join one club it might as well be one with the stalker shower girl who makes you feel like someone understands).

You deadpan your face and take her cup and then you're singing and singing and tapping and singing and she's smiling and blondie looks annoyed and maybe this isn't so bad but then it ends and you pick up your cup and try in vain to remove the sheer happiness that radiated from her when you appeared from your mind. You fail. Miserably.

* * *

 **4.**

" _Trust is the first step to love." - Munshi Premchand_

Trust is not something you give out easily. In fact, trust is such a rare commodity in your life that your own father is on probation and yet somehow the kooky redhead has waltzed into your life and stolen herself a ticket in with ease.

The first time you sense trouble is when you find a sack thrown on your head. You're body tenses abruptly and you're completely ready to punch first and think later, heck if you get this sack off your head even biting isn't out of the question. Except before you even have a chance to showcase your tiny ninja skills, warm hands are softly caressing your arms and the voice you've been playing in your head over and over again is whispering through the itchy hell mask and against your better judgement you relax.

"I feel like you're not supposed to talk to me whilst kidnapping" You mumble through the fabric as she starts to corral your blind body to some place or another and you're glad you broke the silence because you can feel the tremble of her chest shake through your body when she laughs.

"Don't tell Aubrey on me. It's just that you got into this kind adorable kind of battle stance and I've made it a rule of mine to avoid getting tit punched"

"Happen to you a lot?"

"On an average day – no. Tonight however, like three times, plus I'm sure Cynthia Rose groped me"

"I don't know who that is"

"You will" She says and it sounds ominous but you trust her not to lead you into anything too horrible. Trusting her is probably a mistake though because you find the sack whipped from your head and yourself in some weird kind of cult paradise with a plethora of candles that you're sure break some kind of fire code and a goblet full of former Bella blood (the whole Boone's Farm thing isn't quite so convincing when Aubrey is threatening wolves on your vocal cords).

Despite the weirdness trusting Chloe entails, you find it building throughout the night until you're following her away from the initiation party (and subsequently Jesse who's still falling over himself in an attempt to convince you that 'acachildren' are on the cards for the two of you). You don't expect her to lead you to an oak tree on the quad that you've somehow managed to miss despite its secrecy and theoretical shade shield – it's probably the most beautiful tree you've ever seen purely for the ability it would give you to avoid people. The awe must be painted on your face because a moment later she's grinning and grabbing your hand until your both tumbling down under it.

"It's my secret place" She whispers into your ear as she curls her body into your side and wraps your arm around herself. You halt. One second. Two. Three. You find your breath on the fourth second when she hums contentedly and you know you might as well give in because you'll never find it in yourself to pull away from her now.

"Why'd you take me here?" You whisper quietly with some stupid notion that speaking any louder will ruin the serenity you've built but you don't get a reply other than quiet snores that are muffled against your skin.

The tree becomes your place after that. In fact, it's where Chloe finds you when you're hiding from the aftermath of Jesse's attempt to kiss you. She doesn't say anything as she sits down and curls into your side. You're thankful - both for the silence and the warmth of her at your side.

* * *

 **5.**

" _You have a connection to that first person you fell in love with because it was so intense and unprecedented." - John Green_

It becomes undeniably apparent that she's left an indelible mark on your heart when you win the ICCA's. You probably should have noticed before that you were irrevocably in love with her. You definitely should have paid heed to the flutters, and the jitters, and the trembling, and the laughing, and the general 'yes you can be in my personal bubble' things you had going on. But you've always been dense. Evidently you're brain decided to take that to the next level.

The moment you're crowned victors is when it sets in because, yes you did dedicate your song to Jesse so he'd stop with the puppy face, but you've dedicated your life to making Chloe Beale smile, and yet that only seems obvious when she's wildly clutching the trophy above her head and screaming about how she knew you'd make her dreams reality. You vaguely think that you want to make her dreams reality for the rest of your life but you don't say it, just like you don't say _I love you_ because you're Beca Mitchell - residential hater of life and your role in all of this is to smirk and mumble a sarcastic _you're welcome_ as you pray to God that this whole thing will fade away, because the kooky shower prowler makes you kinda queer balls and all you want is to be free of it.

* * *

 **6.**

" _The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy._ _" -_ _Martin Luther King, Jr_

The first time you openly initiate any real sort of contact is following your disgraceful exit from the world of acapella. Sure you've hugged in greeting or placed a gentle hand on her shoulder to assure her of your presence but finding her sniffling in her room is what finally makes you pull your head out of your ass and do something.

It's a tell tale sign that you're clearly not over her when you're first instinct is to curl under the covers with her and pull her into the cocoon your body offers as you bend your body behind hers. You don't help yourself when she shuffles closer, despite the lack of space to begin with, and you allow your body its second of freedom to press a soft kiss to her neck. You don't focus on the hiccup she emits at the act because you can't dwell on this. You can't dwell on her. So instead you focus on the issue in front of you in spite of your complete ineptitude to talk about feelings because she needs this. She needs you.

"Chlo?" You repeat the quiet utterance until she turns to rest her forehead against yours. Your breath catches and it's obvious but maybe she doesn't hear it, or maybe she's saving you the pain of drawing attention to your weakness for her. There's also a chance she just enjoys torturing you because she ignores it in favour of wrapping her arm firmly around your waist and pulling you chest to chest. Your mind barely notes that this isn't normal - that this isn't a thing that friends do because you and Amy don't even spoon under the cover of darkness but here you are in the cold light of day holding Chloe in your arms without consideration.

"This is all I am Beca" The quiet admission breaks your heart.

"That's not true"

"I'm afraid of the real world Becs. What if I give my all and I fail? What if I fall one too many times and can't pick myself back up again?" Maybe it's the tears preparing themselves to fall in her eyes, or the shake in her hands, or the broken tone that's screaming so harshly underneath the cover of her whisper but you don't hesitate when you catch her tear with your lips and smile delicately at her gasp.

"I don't think I can honestly believe that the great Chloe Beale could fail at anything. I mean, you got me to join this group of misfits and you managed to fail a class that you're kind of amazing at and there was that time that you beat Fat Amy at a pancake eating contest - your most memorable achievement in my eyes" She laughs then. You feel a swell of pride in your chest that rivals the moment you brought the Bella's into their zone. "The point is Chloe, that the real world should be afraid of you and if you do fall down you'll have me and a handful of other weirdos to pick you right back up"

"You're kinda totally sweet"

"Keep it down; I don't want to ruin my street cred. I'm half convinced it's the only reason Amy hasn't pranked me in my sleep yet" She grins and you wish you could kiss her. You don't. Instead you tuck her head into your neck and pull the covers higher because emotion is tiring and Chloe had apparently been hiding the world's most comfortable bed right under your nose.

* * *

 **7.**

" _The decision to kiss for the first time is the most crucial in any love story. It changes the relationship of two people much more strongly than even the final surrender; because this kiss already has within it that surrender." - Emil Ludwig_

Somehow you never imagined it like this.

You hate camping on a normal day. Sure you can appreciate the solitude of the woods but you're certainly not a fan of the lack of beds or showers or signal. The lack of sockets also causes you issues but your main problem with this whole situation is the sleeping arrangements.

There shouldn't be this many girls inside a singular tent and your face shouldn't be close enough to Lily's that you can actually hear what she's saying for once because the 'in the middle of nowhere' woods aren't the place to be hearing about her turn at county or her propensity for setting fires. It also should be illegal to be this close to Chloe because you've been avoiding any real contact since that day in her bed and you've been doing spectacularly. Except now she's smiling at you sleepily and her hair is disheveled and she smells like fruit and happiness and how on earth have you been denying yourself this?

You reach breaking point the moment she starts talking about experimentation and you drag her from the tent until she's backed up against a tree looking like she simultaneously knows exactly what you're thinking and like she doesn't even know what she's thinking herself because you reiterate - you never imagined it like this.

"Beca…" She begins and its sound dangerous. This is dangerous. She is dangerous.

"You can't say things like that"

"Like what?"

"Loaded" And then you're kissing her and you can feel the bark scraping against your skin as you run your fingers through her hair. You're kissing her and you can taste the tension you've been trying to ignore since the activities fair. You're kissing her and you can hear her breath quickening and catching and screaming for air and you and you and you. You're kissing her and you can't see anything but darkness as you clasp your eyes as tight as possible because what if you open them up and find yourself back in the tent without this? You're kissing her and the more you do, the more you know this is it, this is your breaking point and you can't come back from her whimpers, or the way she grasps at your hips, or the smile that trickles across her face as the desperation slips into something more permanent (something that feels oddly like the confession you've had on the tip of your tongue for months).

"Hey Bec- Oh!" Emily. Shit. You tear away quickly and gasp for your breath as you stare the wide eyed freshman down.

"We were just getting some air" Is what you say and you can hear Chloe muffling her laughter at your side.

"From each other's lungs?" You cock an eyebrow at her.

"Yep" She cocks one back.

"Why are you acting so weird? It's perfectly normal to kiss your girlfriend, I'm just thankful you avoiding getting all steamy in the tent. Talk about aca-awkward"

"Girlfriend?"

"Yeah, you guys are dating. Is it supposed to be a secret because if so you're keeping it pretty poorly. Like I found you cuddling in Chloe's bed a couple of weeks back Super adorable btw" You stutter for a moment before you find the words your searching for.

"No we're-" You start.

"Friends" Chloe finishes.

"Okay I'm a little ditzy but I'm not dumb guys - geez." She walks away before you can put her straight but you don't really care. You don't really care about anything sans Chloe's hands under your shirt and her lips on yours as she perches you against the tree.

You briefly think that maybe trees are your thing before you forget to think at all.

* * *

 **8.**

" _I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where._ _  
_ _I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;_ _  
_ _so I love you because I know no other way" - Pablo Neruda_

It's an accident when you finally admit you're in love with her. You think all declarations are though. The hardest secrets to keep are the ones that have no reason to be unspoken, and you can't think of a single reason why she doesn't deserve to know that you're hopelessly in love with her as she descends the stairs, wearing the graduation gown that she should have be wearing the hell out of last year. She's pulling at the fabric self consciously when you finally still her hands with your own and press a gentle kiss to her lips.

"You know it's kinda hot. You could skip the whole primary school teacher thing and just model graduation wear if you wanted? Waaay better pay that way _and_ you could wear nothing underneath which would be a bonus for us both"

"That does sound lovely but I'll think I'll stick to the kids and then just come home to you wearing nothing at all"

"Home to me sounds nice"

"Good because you're stuck with me now Mitchell"

"I can think of worse things than being stuck with the woman I love" You're not completely aware of the words you've let slip from your tongue until you watch the unbridled joy stretch across her face. You think if this had been you two years ago you would have ran away, you would have hidden behind your walls and pretended that nothing existed beyond the music blasting in your ears.

But it isn't two years ago, it's today and today you stand your ground because you do love her. You love the secret smiles she sends your way when you say something far too snarky that she's meant to be chastising but finds hilarious instead. You love the way she tucks her body into yours like you're not a tiny mouse. You love the way her eyes light up when you walk into a room and that you've finally realised just what they remind you of - mirrors.

Her eyes remind you of mirrors because when you look into them you now she's seeing the exact thing reflected back in yours, and you're perfectly fine with her knowing all your secrets because she's the first person you trusted, and the first person you cared about enough to truly let in, and you're thankful because Chloe Beale will always be your first. But when she replies "I love you too" you know you're also perfectly fine with her being your last.


End file.
